


The Guy Code

by kuwdora



Category: Little Mosque on the Prairie
Genre: M/M, Not porn, Porn Battle VII, adorkableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-28
Updated: 2009-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuwdora/pseuds/kuwdora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, I completely get the that you have your Islam with the mosque and no beer and veil stuff for the chicks and I’m totally sensitive to all that. But.You have to give a little here. It’s part of The Guy Code. Take off the imam hat and put the Amaar hat on. I just want to sit here with my best buddy and watch stuff blow up. I don’t need to talk about my feelings.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guy Code

Amaar fastened his robe, trying to mask his exasperation with Nate who was standing outside his door. He shouldn't be coming around unannounced like this, especially at this hour, especially during the middle of the week. It was bad enough that he “borrowed” several of mosque’s the prayer rugs last week for a party and returned them with a myriad of chocolate and marshmallow stains that Amaar really didn’t want to ask about. He was continuously ducking volleys from Baber and Rayyan concerning his association with Nate-—the heathen misfit who would bring the whole community down and taint the women and children. He was running out of ways to defend himself and this… _friendship_ with Nate, someone so far outside the community and even farther outside any kind of social circle he was had as a lawyer in Toronto. He wasn't sure why he was humoring him at all anymore, but he couldn't manage to shake him. Nate was kind of like a lost puppy.

“C’mon, I came all this way. I have nowhere else to go,” Nate said, shrugging his shoulders, lacking the usual zest Amaar was learning to deflect. Nate had played the pity card before, but usually more convincingly than this. His hair still stood up in every direction, still unshaven, but he looked _tired_ and not the running on all cylinders for this scheme or that adventure type of tired. He looked like he could fall over at any moment.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, doubt nagging at him him.

“Why don’t you go to the Mercy motel? Or sleep in your office?”

“Because! It’s the principle of the matter! The girlfriend throws you out, you go to your buddy for a beer and some cheer!”

“You know that I don’t drink,” Amaar said for the millionth time.

Nate held up a six pack that was already missing five cans. “I know, that’s why I brought my own. But I can’t go and buy an Amaar at the store.” he said, half-grinning but he quickly shook his head and shivered emphatically.

“Please? It’s freezing out there and I walked the whole way.”

“Where’s your jacket?”

“That’s what I’m saying, man. Tina threw me out with nothing but the shirt on my back!”

“You couldn’t have bought a jacket instead of beer?”

“I only had ten bucks on me.” He shrugged.

“Nice priorities,” Amaar said and sighed and let him in, grabbing the last can as he walked past.

“Hey! If you want some, just ask,” Nate said, grabbing it back.

“How about I make some tea,” Amaar said, walking to the kitchen where he’d already had a kettle of water.

“Whatever,” Nate said, holding the beer protectively and looked around Amaar’s nook. “Love what you’ve done with the place. Sweet little kitchen, one window, looks like some bats could be living up there. Surprised you even have TV,” he said, pointing with his beer can.

“The TV was a gift from Duncan a few years ago when he demanded we have a Planet of the Apes marathon. The man sure does love Charlton Heston.” Amaar said, pulling out clean mugs. He looked over his shoulder, hearing Nate clacking indiscriminately at his laptop. Nate froze, grinned sheepishly and shrugged before making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Aaaand we have baking soda and leftovers. Great,” he said, putting the last beer on the shelf. He closed the refrigerator and wandered the rest of the apartment, helping himself to the blanket he found in the closet. “Why’s it freezing in here?” he asked wrapping himself up and plunking on the couch.

“Because it’s February and Yassir hasn’t fixed the heating yet,” Amaar said, handing Nate the mug of tea. Nate exchanged the tea for a DVD that he pulled out of the folds of the blanket. Amaar cocked his head.

“This fit in your pocket, too?” he asked, turning the DVD over, not surprised to find that it was Die Hard With a Vengance. “Rental place’s right next to the liquor store.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about what happened?” Amaar asked, sitting down next to him.

“You know, I completely get the that you have your Islam with the mosque and no beer and veil stuff for the chicks and I’m totally sensitive to all that. _But._ You have to give a little here. It’s part of The Guy Code. Take off the imam hat and put the Amaar hat on. I just want to sit here with my best buddy and watch stuff blow up. I don’t need to talk about my feelings.” He grabbed the DVD back, put in the player before Amaar could object and tossed Amaar the remote. “It’s yippie-kai-yay, motherfucker,” Nate said with a grin and reclined into his blanket cocoon.

Amaar pressed play on the remote and hid his smile by taking a long sip of tea. The spontaneity was nothing if refreshing.

***

The credits were rolling by the time Amaar woke up and he found himself with a crick in his neck and covered by the blanket. Nate was at the sink, sleeves pushed up as he rinsed not only their mugs, but Amaar's dishes from dinner, too.

“My late nights are way behind me,” Amaar muttered while he stood.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans and took the blanket back. He patted him on the shoulder and gave him a lopsided smile and then collapsed on the couch. “Thanks for the tea. And the couch?” he added hopefully, stretching like a mangy cat and finally kicked off his shoes.

Amaar grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him. “Part of the guy code, right?”

"Now you're gettin' it."

"You know," Amaar said, crawling under the covers. "The Guy Code has some overlap with what I do as imam."

"It's time to take off the Amaar hat and put on the nightcap."

Amaar muffled his laugh as he rolled over.


End file.
